


Exit Stage Right

by jynzandtonic



Category: Adam Driver Character Universe, Marriage Story (2019)
Genre: ALERT: DADDY KINK!!!, Caught in the Act, Daddy Charlie is riiiiich, Daddy Kink, Daddy!Charlie Barber, F/M, Other, Penis In Vagina Sex, Semi-Public Sex, getting caught, just btw, mentions of deepthroating and spanking, oh and, reader's nickname is Rosebud
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:35:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27545458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jynzandtonic/pseuds/jynzandtonic
Summary: “I need you,” he breathes into your mouth, backing you up toward the dining set in the center of the stage, “right - now.”You drop your bag with a heavy thunk as Charlie’s hands fall to your waist, spinning you to face the wooden table. He pulls your ass tight against his body, the solid swell of his cock grinding against you. “Bend over, Rosebud. Daddy needs you now.”A little bit of theater + subway train smut, getting caught in the act, and a soft, protective Daddy Charlie.
Relationships: Charlie Barber/Reader, Charlie Barber/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Exit Stage Right

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on tumblr [@jynzandtonic!](jynzandtonic.tumblr.com) ʕ •ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡
> 
> ················································

Charlie is a respectable man, and he _always_ maintains his composure in public places. Oh, he certainly enjoys testing the limits of _your_ composure—like subtly sitting you on his cock or fiddling with the remote control for your wearable vibe while you hold in your whimpers—but he generally wouldn’t do anything that might risk his decorum. 

That’s why you don’t think anything of it the night he texts from the theater. You know he’s had a long, hard day preparing for the upcoming show, staying well after hours going over notes. His name echoes on the stage when you call out for him, bearing a small offering of takeout and hot coffee carefully nestled in a to-go bag.

When he emerges to meet you, the look of relief and pleasure that washes over him is immense, but it’s not for the food or the caffeine—just you. Large, warm hands cradle your face as he kisses you hard, hot, deep—and entirely _un_ composed. 

You melt for him; you always do. 

“I need you,” he breathes into your mouth, backing you up toward the dining set in the center of the stage, “ _right - now._ ” 

You drop your bag with a heavy thunk as Charlie’s hands fall to your waist, spinning you to face the wooden table. He pulls your ass tight against his body, the solid swell of his cock grinding against you. “Bend over, Rosebud. Daddy needs you _now_.”

You rush with your layers, pulling up and pulling down until he’s pushing into you, red-hot and needy and deep, deep, deep. He pants as he pounds into your cunt; you grip the edges of the table as it scrapes against the stage floor. The theater is empty—it’s just you and Charlie—but something about the open, exposed space fills you with the need to swallow your moans and stifle your cries. Over and over, you whisper two words: “ _yesdaddyyesdaddyyesdaddy_.”

Suddenly, Charlie’s hips go still. He inhales sharply. Your world is sideways, head turned toward the curtains where you rest on the table, where his hand between your shoulder blades had weighted you down—but that hand is withdrawn, as is his cock, as is the pressure of his hips behind yours. 

You hear him mutter one word—“ _Fuck!_ ”—and the clatter of footsteps leaving the stage. When you stand yourself up, fixing your clothes, he’s nowhere to be seen.

He reemerges looking a little red in the face—whether it’s from fucking or running off or whatever the fuck _that_ just was, you can’t be sure. 

“What the hell was that about?” you ask, confused.

He runs a hand through his hair, agitated.

“Uh, an actor came by to grab the fucking coat he forgot,” he huffs out. “I am so, _so_ sorry, sweetheart. Are you okay?”

You laugh. You laugh because you hadn’t seen even the guy walk in, because you’ve sucked Charlie’s cock in his office more times than you can count, because you’ve _cum_ on Charlie’s cock in front of the theater crew before… _they just didn’t know you were cumming._ You laugh because Charlie—this man who fucks your throat raw and spanks you till you cry—is so worried he’s disrespected you or crossed your boundaries. 

“Yes, I’m okay.” Nodding your head, you wrap your arms around him and plant a kiss on his cheek. “Let’s go home, _Daddy_ ,” you whisper.

You get him out of the theater without much protest—dinner on real plates and a big soft bed and all night to make you cum and cum and cum is more than enough reason to abandon his notes. On the train ride home, his hand rests on your thigh tenderly, protectively. You cover it with your own, stroking over his fingers and forearm gently… but almost instinctively, you’re aware that _something_ is missing. Looking down, you notice his wrist is bare. 

“Honey, what happened to your watch?” 

He hums, low and rumbly in his chest, and leans his head back against the window. 

“I gave it to my actor.”

You look at him, incredulous. It’s a [Rolex](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.rolex.com%2Fwatches%2Foyster-perpetual%2Fm114300-0003.html&t=NGQwZmE4NWE3NWIzYzRmYWY2YTcwZjE4YzE2MGJkZjNmYzFmODJjYiwyV1k1YnF3Mw%3D%3D&b=t%3ANDWseLJcDx6Nd8Tek6icZA&p=https%3A%2F%2Fjynzandtonic.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F620292207488942080%2Fexit-stage-right&m=1&ts=1605293439), not exactly a trifling gift for a casual theater colleague.

“You… _gave_ it to him?”

“I have others.” He shrugs, quirking his lips up in a half smile. “I wanted to thank him for his confidentiality about this evening’s events and get some… insurance for our privacy. My idea entirely.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Insurance.” 

“Mhm.” Charlie leans in close to you, mouthing his words into your neck. “You’re the only one who gets to call me ‘Daddy,’ and I’m the only one who gets to hear you say it. Understood?”

“Oh, shit,” you mutter, cheeks flushing hot with the realization that, _fuck, the theater echoes more than you thought._

“What was that, Rosebud?” he asks, prompting you for the _proper_ answer to his question.

Your pussy drips. You were _good_ for Daddy at the theater, but you felt so _naughty_ getting caught, and here you are, on the threshold of being bad bad _bad_. 

“Sorry, Daddy,” you whisper. “I understand. No one else calls you ‘Daddy,’ and it’s all for you. Only for you.” 

“That’s right,” he smiles into your skin. “Just you and me.” His grip on your thigh tightens, the pressure radiating straight to your cunt. “You and me.”

You squirm in the slightest, eyes immediately scan the train car for onlookers, but it’s blessedly quite empty. “Just you and me, Daddy,” you sigh.

“Daddy would _never_ share,” he rumbles, continuing to knead at the soft flesh of your thigh. “Daddy would give away _all_ his Rolex watches if it meant he didn’t have to share you. In fact, he’s feeling a little greedy tonight.” Charlie’s gaze is pitch-black and lustful, fixed on the curve of your lips, the apples of your cheeks, your rapidly-dilating pupils. “Would you like Daddy to be greedy tonight?”

The doors open with a hiss, the train chiming to alert you to your stop—and that until now, you’ve forgotten how to breathe. 

Something tells you the takeout will have to wait.

…………

**Author's Note:**

> ················································
> 
> Come say hi on tumblr [@jynzandtonic!](jynzandtonic.tumblr.com) ʕ •ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡ 
> 
> [Buy me a whiskey?](ko-fi.com/jynzandtonic)
> 
> _No trigger is too small-- **ask me and I'll tag it!**_
> 
> **A brief note on sex and gender:** I'm AFAB nonbinary, so I while I write for fem!reader (anatomy-wise) and I *do* have a soft spot for certain gendered pet names (which are always tagged if applicable), I hope there's enough space for folx at a variety of places on the gender spectrum to feel included in my fics xoxoxo.
> 
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